


break my knuckles, feel them crack

by allisonmartined



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Character Death, Knives, Lydia-centric, Minor Peter/Lydia, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisonmartined/pseuds/allisonmartined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first boy she kills says<i> I love you</i> and she buries the knife deep between his ribs, until she feels something loosen in her chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	break my knuckles, feel them crack

**Author's Note:**

> Lydia kills boys. That's it, that's the story.

It's her father who tells her the truth first, who spins the truth deep inside her soul so that it coils around her entire being.  

 

"Because," he says, "it's easier to control people than to make them love you."

 

She likes things she can hold in her mind, predict, and analyze.  She never did like the unforeseen, the uncontrollable.

 

Almost everything, she can control.  Her words, her parents, her friends, every molecule around her she can shape.

 

Love, though, is messy, and she avoids it.  It makes her skin crawl, make her want to smash it down, destroy.

 

 

The first boy she kills says I love you and she buries the knife deep between his ribs, until she feels something loosen in her chest.

 

She cleans her hands of the blood, deep red staining her skin, and burns the sheets.  She's meticulous, in perfect precise control.

 

It starts slowly, knives, poison, a muffled gunshot.  She prefers the way the knives slick with blood, the way it runs over her hands, proof, proof of her power over them.  She likes the poetry of the cut and the thick flow of red  against skin.

 

She likes the way college boys gurgle, surprised, as the blood drains from them, she likes the look in their eyes.  Maybe it's fear, maybe it's shock, but she thinks it's awe.  She thinks they look at her in those last seconds before the life leaves them completely, and sees a savior.  She thinks in that last moment, they're grateful that she's taken the chaos from them.

 

He's one of her professors, cunning and sharp wit.  He cuts into her and sees her insides.  And he smiles at the darkness there.  And she lets him.  She could say that she doesn't know what it is about him that she concedes to, but she knows.  It's the way they mirror one another.  She can see the dark beneath his eyes, and it draws her in.  

 

They fuck in the shadows of his office, and it leaves her hollowed, burning beneath her skin.  It's like nothing else she's ever felt.  All fire and darkness and emptiness.

 

He calculates her, she can see it in his stance, in the way he scans her body.  She wonders what his blood will taste like on her tongue.

 

 

 

 

She rests the knife against his jugular, droplets of blood staining the blade already.  She digs her nails into her skins until blood wells around her nails, smearing it with the pads of her fingers.

 

"Look at you, acting  like I'm worth something, like I'm some commodity you can trade.  You are nothing, Peter Hale," she spits out, "I'm everything. I'm the blood in you mouth.  I am who you pray to."

 

She slices the knife deep against his skin and the blood floods her senses.

 

This is control.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere in this universe, Stiles and Allison are twins who kill people together. Allison and Lydia eventually meet up and kill boys together. Happily ever after. The end.


End file.
